Love and Crackers
by aprilhope
Summary: Sequel of sorts to my Five Senses of Draco & Ginny series, but could stand alone. Christmas fic for any time of year lol. Features DracoGinny, RonHermione, and HarryPansy in near equal parts. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

_**Love and Crackers: a Harry Potterverse Christmas story for any time of year  
**__(sequel to The Five Senses of Draco/Ginny series)  
__by AHS_

_  
Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley..._

"I look ridiculous."

"You look very handsome."

"Of course, but that doesn't prevent the ridiculousness. Why am I in this... peasant wear?"

"Because you're meeting my parents and I thought it might endear you to my dad if he saw you in Muggle clothes."

"Yes, but jeans??"

Ginny walked an appraising circle around Draco, giving his denim-clad arse a pat. "I think you should wear them all the time," she said, grinning mischievously as she picked stray bits of lint from his sweater.

Draco wiggled an eyebrow. "Well, you never know _what_ you might find beneath my robes, darling. You'll just have to go looking more often."

Ginny laughed as he pulled her to him dramatically and made little growling noises against her throat. "Stop it," she half-heartedly admonished. "We have to be ready for my... parents."

And there, right on cue... watching them with mouths agape... stood Arthur and Molly Weasley.

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_  
Ron Weasley & Hermione Granger..._

Having just seen his parents (and been hugged an inordinately large number of times for a five minute visit), Ron was watching as his mum and dad made their way through the crowds of King's Cross Station to the scene they came upon. He chuckled and tugged on his girlfriend's sleeve.

"Uh oh! Look at that, Hermione!"

"Oh dear," she said when she saw. "Probably not the best way to start the holidays. Poor Ginny."

"Poor Ginny, nothing! My sister chose the evil git, and she has to deal with all that goes with him. I'm just happy it's my parents that have to be exposed to that... _bleaaahh_... and not me, for a change."

"Is that all you're happy about? That you're getting a break from Ginny and Draco's snogging sessions?"

"No, of course that's not all."

"I should hope not," she smiled, keeping her eyes peeled for her parents.

"No school for ten days? I'm thrilled!... Ow!"

Hermione had thwapped her best friend of five years... now boyfriend of almost seven weeks... upside his very redhead.

"Did I forget the most important part?" Ron quickly added, rubbing his head. "Which is how happy I am to be spending the holidays with you and your family?"

"Oh, Ronald!" She kissed him on the cheek for that.

He grinned, but couldn't help himself, shaking his head and muttering, "Women."

Just as she looked like she might hit him again, they heard a voice say, "You were right as always, Hermione. You two are like a Tracy-Hepburn movie."

"Mum! Dad!"

Ron felt good seeing Hermione embrace her parents, knowing how much she'd missed them. Meanwhile, he stood nervously awaiting the boyfriend inspection, and wondering who this Tracy Hepburn bird was.

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_  
Harry Potter & Pansy Parkinson..._

"How can you possibly need this much luggage?"

"Not all of us are so self-sufficient as to get along with only one proud little duffel bag, Harry."

"But how can you even have room for all this stuff at Hogwarts? And why don't you just... whew... _magically_ make it all fit in one suitcase?"

"Because I like to make a statement!" Pansy declared, then turned around and saw how positively overloaded with her bags Harry was. "Oh, babe, I'm sorry!" She ran over, gave him a tiny kiss of apology on the lips, and took two of the larger matching bags off his hands.

"I'm impressed," he said, following behind her.

"Hey, I'm strong. If it were summer and you were wearing some little T-shirt, I might let you keep on by yourself just to see those muscles on display. But, as it's winter and you're sadly covered up by layers, there's no joy in watching you suffer."

Harry laughed, a little more easily now under slightly less weight. She really was the most oddly sweet girl. "You're all heart, Pan."

"I _know_! Aren't you lucky I decided to claim you and gave you no choice but to adore me?"

"Yes."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at the sincerity in his green eyes, and gave him a wink of acknowledgement. _I heart that boy_, she thought, as they kept walking. _I hope he's not too upset with me when he finds out..._

"Pansy? Where are your parents?"

"Hmm? Oh, they're not coming. Look, there's a car for us!"

Before he could try to figure out the secretive little glint in her eye, they were depositing Pansy's mountain of luggage at the feet of a man holding a sign that said "Parkinson-Potter."

"Damn, that looks good hyphenated."

"Pansy..."

"What? I didn't say anything!" she giggled. "Onward to Parkinson Manor!"

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"Hi Mum, Dad," said Ginny brightly, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. Because really, nothing was! Just because her parents' heads looked about to explode...

"Ginevra Weasley, we didn't teach you to carry on this way in public!" her mother scolded.

"Hehehe... _Ginevra._"

Everyone turned at the sound of Draco's rather moronic-sounding low chuckle. Ginny rolled her eyes and hid a smile.

"Oh, sorry, _ahem_. I really enjoy her first name."

Ginny cut in before her parents could respond. "And precisely how was I carrying on? I was in the arms of my boyfriend, and I was enjoying myself. Ooh, how scandalous. We weren't even kissing! You and Dad are always kissing in public!"

"What Ginny means is..." Draco nearly stepped back from the _I-can't-believe-you-are-daring-to-speak-for-me _glare he was getting from her. Still, he placed a reassuring hand on her back and held his ground, addressing her parents. "She's missed you."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley blinked at each other, chose not to think about Draco Malfoy just yet, and instead rushed at their only daughter with months of unbestowed hugs.

"Oof! Okay... we can do this at home." Ginny glimpsed Draco over her dad's shoulder, standing out of the way, and turned her parents to face him. "Now, Mum... Dad... meet Draco, my boyfriend. Draco, these are my parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley."

Draco cleared his throat and extended his hand. He shook Mr. Weasley's before it was even offered. He wanted to kiss Mrs. Weasley's hand, but he was afraid she would smack him if he did, so he quickly shook hers as well. "Pleasure to meet you both... without my father present."

"Well, I'll agree with that last part," muttered Mr. Weasley. "Er, what I meant to say," he continued, seeing the look on his daughter's face, "was... was..."

"Let's get back to the Burrow, shall we?" filled in Mrs. Weasley, who began walking hurriedly, leaving it to the rest to keep up with her.

Mr. Weasley picked up Ginny's bags just as Draco reached for them. So, Draco carried his own _magically enhanced_ (to fit three bags' worth of stuff in one) suitcase, holding onto Ginny with the other hand. The icy silence from her parents, even in the noisy, overcrowded train station, was coming through cold and clear. He decided to make an effort.

"I just want to say, ahem... thank you for inviting me to your home for the holidays."

"Goodness, Ginny. You've trained him well," quipped Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" Ginny shook her head, not even wanting to bother with her mother at the moment. "Dad, what do you think of Draco's clothes? Do you like them?"

"Why... yes, I do," her dad admitted, really noticing the Muggle wear for the first time. "Can't be your usual style, can it? Oh, goodness, are those Nikes?"

"I believe so. Ginny conjured it all up and dressed me head to toe... Not that she saw me naked or anything," Draco unnecessarily volunteered. He then noticed both of her parents seemed to be walking faster.

"Draco, sweetie," whispered Ginny. "You're not helping."

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"So... this is Ron, hmm?"

"Dad, don't be silly. You and Mum have met Ron before."

"Polite introductions here at the train station or in that magic bookshop are fine for meeting your daughter's _friend_. When he gets upgraded to _boyfriend_, it's an entirely different matter," said Mr. Granger, with a slight chuckle at Hermione's embarrassment.

Ron just grinned as widely as possible, trying to show off his good oral hygiene. Since her parents were dentists, he had worked to make his smile the best it had ever been and impress them. He'd brushed and brushed his teeth until the bristles on his toothbrush had fallen off, and even flossed and whitened with these gooey little strip things (after begging his dad for Muggle dental supplies, rather than risking a spell gone wrong). Hermione had noticed and said it was all completely unnecessary, although she'd admitted his smile took her breath away even more than usual lately.

"My word, Hermione. What a lovely smile he has," her mother noted. "Why did I never notice before? Maybe I was distracted by the gorgeous red hair," she laughed, good-naturedly.

"It's because my smile wasn't this big or this bright until Hermione said she'd be my girlfriend," said Ron.

It was hard to believe the years it took him to consciously realize how much of a girl Hermione really was. She and her mother turned to each other, tears in their eyes, and held hands, making fawning sounds like they'd just seen the world's cutest, tiniest puppy. Mr. Granger clapped Ron on the back and whispered in his ear.

"Well said, m'boy. Keep saying things that smartly romantic and you'll make a darn good husband one day."

"Uh, I did mean it, sir," Ron told him, trying not to freak out at mention of the word _husband._

Hermione's dad laughed. "I know, I know you did. You think I want my daughter married to a liar? C'mon, everyone, to the car!"

All Ron could do was squeak as the others began to move. Finally, Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him along with her.

"See? They adore you! Ron? Ron??" She looked around, thinking maybe he'd seen a spider, until she heard him.

"_Married_," he barely managed to whisper. And he kept repeating it to himself almost the entire car ride, staring off into space, until Hermione put a stop to it.

"Daddy, what did you say to Ron? You didn't say anything about he and I... getting..." She could tell by the not quite concealed amusement on his face. "Daddy, that's mean! Why would you do that?"

"I wasn't trying to be mean, darling, honestly. I was trying to show Ron my support. And I guess I wanted to see how he would react."

"This is the boy it took me five years to get to hold my hand without being paralyzed with fear. Will you please just tell him you were kidding?"

"Howard, it's not going to be much of a Christmas with Ron in this coma you seem to have put him in," her mother added.

Howard Granger kept driving, glancing in the rearview mirror at Ron. "Hey, Ron, listen... you are forbidden to marry my daughter, ever." He turned to his wife. "How was that, Mel?"

Melanie Granger peeked over her shoulder and saw Ron blinking in apparent confusion. Still, he was looking a bit less panicked. "Unnecessarily extreme in the other direction, dear, but at least he's breathing now."

"Ron?" In the backseat, Hermione comfortingly smoothed down rogue strands of Ron's hair. "I'm sorry about my dad. You do know he was only kidding, don't you?"

"Oh, sure... sure." Ron laughed a nervous laugh, like the kind he usually let out right before ingesting one of the twins' new goodies. Then he abruptly stopped. "Wait, he was kidding about what he said before? Or what he said just now?"

Hermione crinkled her brow for a second. "Both, I suppose? But I was talking about what he said before we got to the car. You can relax, all right?" With a knowing smile, she sat back for the remainder of the ride, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.

She knew him well, but even she would have been surprised by what was upsetting Ron at that moment... the possibility that he had just been forbidden to marry her.

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The luxurious silver towncar pulled up outside of the biggest house Harry had ever seen. He slid out first, then offering his hand to Pansy to help her out, his eyes jumping back and forth from his girlfriend to her palatial home.

"So this is..."

"Parkinson Manor," she completed his statement of the obvious. "Yes, it is. Ahh, it's good to be home. Come on, I'll show you around!"

Pansy performed a quick locomotor spell on the luggage to make it follow them in without being carried, and then raced up to the front door, Harry right behind her. He watched as she touched a finger to the door, just barely, and it opened. Not only did it open, but it greeted her, in a disembodied but friendly voice that said, "Welcome home and happy holidays, Miss Parkinson. You've been missed."

"Thank you," Pansy replied warmly.

"Did you just say thank you to the door?"

"No, of course not. I said it to the house."

"So... this house is enchanted to speak and respond?"

"Not exactly. She's a living home."

"A living... What does that mean?"

"Just what you think it means. This house is alive. Bwaahahaha."

Harry smiled, amused by Pansy's attempt at _spooky_ fingers and an evil laugh. "I didn't know a house could be... alive. Is that common in the wizarding world?"

"Not at all. As far as I know, Parker's the only one."

"Parker?"

"I call her Parker. Parkinson Manor, you know. I don't even know the full story. Let's just say my parents like to make a statement as well. And not only do they have a lot of power in this world, but they have serious connections in top level Muggle government."

Harry's voice dropped to a furtive whisper, as hers had. "Wow… I have no idea what that means."

Pansy laughed, shrugging. "Me neither. Except that the house was a way for my parents to go out all the time and not even have to hire a sitter."

"I'm really not sure how I feel about meeting them."

"Oh, well... good. Because they're not here. And they won't be, until we're well back at Hogwarts."

"What?"

"No, they've gone to Fiji for the holidays. Did I not mention that?"

"No, I don't think you did."

"Sorry. It's just us, babe."

"Pan, what am I going to do with you?"

Her arms snuck around him and she held him close. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

He had a few ideas. But he also now had the strangest feeling... like the house was watching.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Well, here we are!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I love your home. It's so quaint, so… lived-in. Ow!"

Ginny had jabbed Draco in the ribs just hard enough to halt his "compliments" before her mother seethed to a nice shade of purple.

"Pardon me, everyone," said Mr. Weasley, retreating to his study. "Just a bit of work to finish up before I can start the holiday!"

"Fred, George, show our guest to Percy's room, please," Mrs. Weasley loudly commanded, despite the "please," and with only the smallest flicker of sadness at the mention of her absent son.

Ginny ran up and hugged her brothers as they appeared, happy to see they had managed to pull themselves away from their shop for a bit. She whispered a warning (she knew was of no real use) to be nice to Draco.

"Gin, we're hurt," said Fred, with a mock look of devastation.

"We're always nice," agreed George. "C'mon, Malfoy. We should warn you, though. This room turns its occupants into complete gits."

Fred, right on cue… "Oops! Too late!"

Ginny stood on tiptoe to smack them both across the back of the head. "Mum, I could show Draco to his room, you know."

"No, no, no! I need your help in the kitchen, dear! Lots to do for supper!"

"More like keeping me far away from any space that has you and a bed," Ginny said under her breath to Draco, shaking her head.

"Can't really blame her there. I am damn difficult to resist."

"True. Go on up, get settled. Just don't take anything the twins give you."

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, relaxing his slightly frightened expression, and watched him follow Fred and George, who were still rubbing where she'd given them what for. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of breaking glass and whirled around to her mother.

"Mum, are you all right?"

"Fine, dear, fine! Oh… _reparo_," she muttered absentmindedly, fixing the glass, but obviously still distracted. Ginny would be willing to bet it was the less than two second kiss she'd planted on Draco that had made her mother start dropping things.

"He's my boyfriend, mum."

"Believe me, I know that, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"But you don't seem to know yet that it isn't the end of the world. It's actually a good thing." Looking around, all the chopping and mixing and general cooking seemed to be magically taking care of itself. Ginny came up beside her mother and leaned her head against her arm. "I know you don't know him yet. Just realize that not knowing the good means maybe you don't really know the bad. He is trying."

Mrs. Weasley nodded a bit, almost against her will. "He seems to be."

"So, could you maybe just… let him? For me?"

"I'll do my best, dear," Mrs. Weasley acquiesced, kissing her only daughter's forehead. "I can't speak for your father, however."

Ginny smiled. Despite the legendary overprotectiveness of fathers, and her own father's legendary hatred for Draco's family, her dad was pretty laid-back and was already proving more open than her mum to giving Draco a chance.

"Okay."

"Now… expanded house rules for this holiday! No being in _his _room after ten p.m.! No being in _his_ room alone at any time without the door opened at least this far…"

Ginny groaned as her mother illustrated with her arms and poured herself some pumpkin juice, prepared for a long list.

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"So, that's Tracy Hepburn, huh? She's pretty."

Ron and Hermione were sitting on the Granger couch watching some of Hermione's favorite old movies: _Woman of the Year_, to be followed by _Adam's Rib_. Her parents had started out watching with them, but soon they'd left the "youngsters" alone.

"Honestly, Ronald."

"I meant to say, she's talented and I respect her as a person!"

"Ron, it's all right," Hermione laughed. "I'm making fun because they're two different people. The man is Spencer Tracy. The woman is Katherine Hepburn."

"Oh! Then why do you say them like one name, like they're one person?"

"It's like us, I suppose."

Ron's nose crinkled in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You know. Whenever anyone refers to us, it's always _RonandHermione_. Together. And it's been that way for years, long before we started dating. Even Harry does it."

"I think Harry does it the most."

"Because he knows us the best. He could see, even though on the surface we were always fighting, really it was just a form of flirtation. Just like with these two."

Ron looked back to the screen to which Hermione was gesturing. Sure enough, they were railing at each other again, but Ron would bet money (if he had any) they'd be snogging in the next scene.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hand sinking into curls of too much hair and playing with the softness. "If you were raised on these movies, then how come it took you all these years to figure me out? Figure us out?"

"Because it was real life. No matter how much we may have seemed like Tracy & Hepburn from the outside, I knew my heart wasn't going by a script. I couldn't be sure your movie was the same as mine, until you took the chance."

"I thought you took the chance first."

"No. First move, maybe, but you took the chance. You wouldn't let either of us pretend 'just friends' anymore. You made it clear it was more."

"I got tired of waiting for you, 'Mione."

Her smile warmed him more than the fireplace that crackled just beyond their sock feet, as she told him, "You were always the bravest of all of us."

"Me??" Ron would have put himself last in that regard, at least of the three of them.

"Yes, you. I seem to recall a little boy on a giant chess piece, charging ahead into certain doom to save his friends."

"Yeah, but that was… that was… Blimey, we were barely twelve."

"I think my heart was yours from then on, Ron."

He had been hers even earlier, but this declaration from Hermione had just made his holiday, if not his life. Her hand found its way into his, and he brought it to his lips and kissed it… unsure of his ability to carry off a romantic gesture like that, but so sure of the feeling behind it that he didn't care.

"Then that blasted headache I woke up with was worth it even more than I knew," he grinned.

Howard and Melanie Granger watched their daughter and her boyfriend from the end of the hall, and found themselves cuddling similarly at their sweetness.

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"This is your room?"

"This is it."

"Are you sure it's not a department store, or a museum, or… housing for a small country, or something?"

Pansy chuckled, watching Harry's head whip back and forth (she'd have to give him a little neck rub later), taking everything in, such a look of astonishment on his face. She might have taken the question as insulting from someone she liked less, but not only did she adore her boyfriend, she had also acquired a fairly good understanding of where he was coming from.

"I'm rich, Harry. I can't help it. I am spoiled mercilessly, and I have a very big room. Kind of goes with the huge mansion."

"Sorry, Pan. You did warn me."

"Yes, I did."

Harry paused, having spotted something on her dresser that caught his eye. "Not about this, though. What is this?" He picked up the photograph, only to have Pansy try to snatch it out of his hand.

"Oh, that's nothing! Just… childish silliness. Harry, put it down!"

They were about the same height, and she was determined, but Harry had the quickness of a champion Seeker. He ran with the photo and jumped up on her canopy bed to get a better look at it. He watched as a very young Pansy… perhaps five years old… twirled and danced about in a fluffy pink tutu.

"This is so cute! Why didn't you want me to see it?"

Pansy sighed. "It's just silly. I was a terrible dancer. And I was fat."

"What? You were not fat! But I know I'm wasting my breath there. You think you're fat _now_…" He shook his head as he trailed off. She was one of the slenderest girls at Hogwarts.

"No, I never said that, I just said that the school robes aren't exactly slimming."

"Good, because you're beautiful now and then. And you're as good a dancer as I imagine any little girl could be."

Pansy climbed up on the bed and sat beside Harry, bumping him with her shoulder. "You're full of it, Potter. Absolutely crackers. I'm so glad you're mine."

He smiled and kissed her lightly on soft, red lips, glad for the same. Before he could become completely distracted by the grown-up version, he found his eyes drawn once more to the child Pansy.

"What are you looking for?" he wondered aloud.

"What… do you mean?"

"Even as you're dancing, you keep looking around, like you're waiting for something or someone."

"Oh… my parents. It was a recital. I was waiting for them to show up."

"They weren't there yet? Who took the picture?"

"The teacher, I think… They never came. They never did to that sort of thing. Always had… important things to do."

Harry hated how matter-of-fact she was about it, because he could tell there was sadness underneath. His fingers stroked over her smooth, nearly jet black, shoulder-length hair. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened at him. "Harry, are you seriously apologizing to me for _my _childhood? After what you've told me about your growing up, living with those horrible Muggles?"

"Yes. Because, as much as I wish my parents were still alive and that I could have by raised by them, the one thing that made my situation with the Dursleys bearable was that they _weren't_ my parents. The way they treated me made me angry more than anything else. But to be ignored like that by your mum and dad has to hurt."

"Maybe," she relented, then nuzzled close to his ear. "But it's also allowed us to be here alone for Christmas, so I am not complaining."

"You have a marvelous way of looking at things. Did I ever tell you that?"

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Ginny decided against knocking on Draco's door and just went inside. She was rewarded for this decision with one very hot, shirtless boyfriend. She pushed the door behind her until it was open just a crack and hurried over, placing eager hands on his skin before he could cover up.

"Hellll-o."

Draco scrambled a bit, but didn't move completely out of her arms. "Ginny! What if your parents walk in? They hate me enough as it is!"

"Mmm, sadly you're right," she said, taking the dress shirt in his hand and helping him pull it on. She stopped at the look on his face. "I mean about my parents walking in! Not… the hating you part."

"They don't?"

"Well… no. You've only exchanged a few less than pleasant pleasantries so far. It'll take time, and you just got here. Relax." Finishing buttoning him up, she smoothed the material, and hopefully tension from his muscles at the same time. "Why are you dressing up?"

"Because I'm still foolishly trying to make a good impression!"

"Don't try so hard. Just sit next to me. Only grope me under the table as much as you absolutely need to get through the evening. And ask for seconds of everything my mum gives you."

"Ugh," moaned Draco, already foreseeing the indigestion. But he quickly replaced it with determination. "I can do that." He smiled at his beautiful redhead. "You and me, right?"

She smiled back. "You and me."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Love and Crackers: a Harry Potterverse Christmas story for any time of year  
**__(sequel to The Five Senses of Draco/Ginny series)  
__by AHS_

_Part 2_

"Eat up, Weasleys!… Oh, and… guests."

Draco could hardly miss the death of enthusiasm in Mrs. Weasley's voice. But her face lit up once more as she surveyed the large wooden table. Except for Percy, who was off sucking up to Scrimgeour, and Ron, who was off sucking up to Muggles, all the children were present. Even Charlie was there, telling dragon tales to Mr. Weasley. Bill had brought his fiancée, Fleur Delacour, which didn't thrill Ginny, but it did mean Draco's wasn't the only head of pale blond marring her mother's vision of the picture perfect family red.

"Zair is only one guest, 'ere!" Fleur declared, seemingly unaware of this, as she showed off her ring again. "I am familee! I am soon to be Weasley!"

Ginny made a small retching sound beside him and covered it with a cough. Not that he could commiserate with his fellow outsider, even if Fleur saw herself that way. If he looked at the Veela for more than two seconds without rolling his eyes, his girlfriend would apply a sharp pinch to whatever area of his skin she could most quickly locate. This time it was the top of his left thigh, and he quickly returned focus to his overflowing plate.

"Mum's cooking is really good, don't worry," Ginny whispered to him. "But… I know I told you to ask for seconds, but maybe you should go easy…"

"Darling, I'll be fine. It's just a meal. People have them every day."

"_You_ don't. Not with my family."

True enough, it was more similar to a Hogwarts feast… in both quantity of food and company… than to any "family meal" Draco had ever had. He'd never quite gotten the point of seating three people around a table twice as big as this one that fit all the Weasleys. Rather than shouting to be heard, they just didn't talk, and the food always looked better than it tasted. Whereas, the food on his plate now… looked positively disgusting. But he was willing to bet it was delicious.

"Mmm, that's…" He chewed, tasted. "That's…" He tried not to choke. "Gin, what _is_ that?" He pointed to the first pile he had sampled.

"Oh, that's Mum's favorite. She calls it her _Ottery St. Casserole_."

"Does it have _otter_ in it??"

"Is there a problem?" Molly Weasley's voice rang out faux sweetly.

"Pardon? Oh, no, not at all. I was just saying to Ginny how marvelous this is."

Mrs. Weasley's smile was forced, but she seemed appeased for the moment. Draco sighed silently in relief, felt Ginny squeeze his knee supportively, and resolved to finish every bite of the mysterious dish. And he did.

But once he did, and made the mistake of calling attention to the fact, his plate was somehow full of food again, leaving Mrs. Weasley thinking he was a liar (not like she hadn't thought that already). This happened three times, though it hadn't taken more than the first for him to figure out it was the work of those blasted twins. Draco could think of a few choice spells he'd like to send their way… wipe those matching goofy grins off their goofier faces… but he felt, or imagined, parental eyes constantly on him, so he just kept eating.

Ginny realized what was going on, and he could see daggers flashing in her eyes, aimed at Fred and George. He thought how near impossible it must be to adhere to the pesky _no magic outside of Hogwarts _rule living with those two. But just that _look_ from her was enough to put fright in their expressions, and his plate was left alone. How Draco loved that girl.

Unfortunately, he couldn't even properly enjoy the moment, because he was so unnaturally stuffed that he felt like the poor turkey on the table. Except that the turkey had been lavished with attention to the point of having its bones picked clean. Draco had come to the Burrow fully expecting to be ripped apart, and he was ready to withstand it for Ginny. But her parents seemed content to simply ignore him as much as possible. The twins were a couple of plonkers, but at least they acknowledged his presence.

And they acknowledged him with a too gleeful unison shout that he was "a lovely shade of Slytherin green" when Draco had to make a run for the toilet and be quite sick for the next several minutes. Once he allowed Ginny to get near him, she smoothed a cool hand over his forehead and made him drink a tonic that worked quickly. And, after he insisted on brushing his teeth twelve times, she further proved her magic touch with a soothing dessert of kisses.

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"Are you not enjoying your celery, Ron?"

Ron, Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat around the dining table. All were full from a delicious supper… made by Hermione's dad, actually, which Ron had thought was a joke at first and had made the mistake of laughing about… but there would be no mince pies or treacle tart or custard for dessert. What you got when your girlfriend's parents were dentists was a tray full of apple slices and celery sticks.

"Oh, no, it's… great!" Ron managed, taking another loud bite of the vegetable… that even _tasted _green… and getting that stringy stuff caught in his teeth. "It's like… food and dental floss all in one."

Howard and Melanie… who'd insisted that Ron call them by their first names, which he tried to pretend didn't make him extremely uncomfortable… burst out laughing, and soon Hermione even joined in. Then she slipped him a packet of Chocolate Frogs under the table and whispered that she had more for him later. He had to hold himself back from snogging her right there.

It had been a really good day. He'd beaten Melanie at chess once and "lost" to Howard… after coaching from Hermione that her dad hated losing (unless it was to her) and her mom hated someone letting her win… and it had been fun, even if Muggle chess was rather boring, the way you had to move the pieces around yourself and then they just sat there. Similarly, even though he thought Muggle photographs were weird, how people didn't move in them, almost like they'd been petrified, he sure got a kick out of all the pictures of Hermione as a little girl. He was treated to album after album of them. She scowled at first and looked away, embarrassed, but started to beam with pride when she was shown holding ribbons earned in spelling competitions and such at her old school.

The idea of Hermione at a non-wizarding school was kind of sad to Ron. Sure, she was a good, old-fashioned, academic brain, but more than that, she was such a talented, powerful witch. As much as she seemed to show off at Hogwarts, he'd always got the sense that she actually forced herself to hold back a bit. He couldn't imagine how much she must have had to hold back living as a Muggle, unable to use magic.

Soon, it had gotten late, and Hermione's parents were saying goodnight and heading to the stairs.

"Sweetie, I'll knock on _your _door in the morning as soon as breakfast is ready," her dad said. "And Ron, I certainly hope you find the _guest bed _comfortable."

Ron's ears flamed as red as his hair at the man's attempt at subtlety. Did he really think…? There was no chance he was going to try anything like that with Hermione in her parents' house… well, not much, anyway. Not even as much as what they'd already done… which was far from _everything… _but was still… _really _nice…

"_Ron_," she whispered urgently from behind him. "Nod your head."

"Oh." He didn't realize he'd kind of glazed over, remembering some choice evenings alone in the Gryffindor common room… and that little-known closet Nearly Headless Nick had introduced them to… Oops, there he went again. He quickly closed his mouth and made his head move in the affirmative. Howard and Melanie just twittered knowingly and went upstairs.

"Sorry for the endless parade of pictures," Hermione said, after his nervousness had melted away and he'd pulled her back down to the couch with him.

"I liked it. I'd forgotten how big your hair used to be."

"Shut up," she laughed.

"I was too scared to touch your hair then… but I always used to wonder if my hand would get stuck." He sank long fingers into smoother, but still full tresses, combing, letting the softness fall through.

"Not now, hmm?"

She leaned into his touch and he gripped again, grinning. "No… but my hand doesn't seem to want to leave."

It may have taken Ronald Weasley a long time to admit to seeing Hermione as anything more than a friend, but he had made it up to her by proving to be secretly the most unbelievable sap.

"Your parents are really nice people."

"They like you."

"Do they?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Mostly, I think they're just really happy to have you home. We've kind of… hogged you a bit, haven't we? Harry and me. My family. The whole magical world, really."

"I've missed them. I'm glad to be home. But I've made choices based on what I thought was best… and, also, where I wanted to be. To be honest, that was usually with you."

"Hermione Granger… you are such a girl."

"Told you, didn't I?"

"As always, you were right."

xxxxxxxxxx

Parkinson Manor was so big, it even had an equivalent to the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower. Snowflakes shone like the stars all around them, as they were basically outside, but kept toasty and warm by the magical house… and each other, cuddled on a blanket, looking up at the sky.

"Harry… I don't do this often, so it will probably come off about as well as my childhood dancing, but… I want to say I'm sorry."

He propped up on one elbow and looked down at her atypically timid face. "What for? Not telling me your parents wouldn't be here? In case you haven't noticed, I'm happy about that."

"No, I mean for the way… I've treated you over the years."

_Oh… that._ "Pan, don't worry about it," he said honestly, after a moment. "It… I don't think of that when I think of you anymore, okay? It's like it was two different people. We were kids."

"It wasn't long ago at all, Harry. I was just such a nasty little thing… teasing you about the dementors… and the Triwizard tournament… anything and everything, and… I actually used to call you '_Potty_,' like that was clever." She laughed darkly at herself, squeezing her eyes shut tightly in embarrassment and regret. "God, you can tell my heart wasn't in it, can't you?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Because it was what was expected. That's the worst reason ever, but there you go. And… I'd aligned myself with Draco, my little rat," Pansy sighed, with that platonic affection she still held for Malfoy. "And he hated you, so… Well, that was really jealousy, mostly. Like me and Granger, I suppose."

Harry was confused. "Why would you be jealous of Hermione? You're a great student."

"Because of you! I didn't think there was anything romantic between you, really, but the papers were calling her your '_girlfriend_,' and she was with you all the time…"

"But… I still don't get why you would care."

She sat up and pulled him up to join her. "Babe, did you really think I decided I liked you out of the blue at that Slug Club party?"

"You mean you…?"

"I think I had a little crush from the start. Most of the girls at school did… Merlin, some of the boys…"

Harry's eyes bugged slightly and he wondered if he'd understood that correctly.

"But I was a Slytherin… something I would not apologize for then or now… and you made it pretty clear early on how much you hated us."

"You don't have to apologize for that, or anything else. Because you're right." It was so bizarre to think for such a long time he had written Pansy off as just the queen Slytherin… the _pug-faced girl_. That had been the best description he could think of for the… perhaps snobby, perhaps guarded… expression he always saw on her face. But he was privy to so many more of her expressions now, and she was so beautiful… especially with the starlight sparkling on her skin. "Maybe you weren't the only one who had some growing up to do."

She smiled deeply, knowing he really didn't resent her for the past. "You grew up… well."

He welcomed the lascivious look she was giving him, up and down, and gave it right back to her. "You, too, Pan… quite well indeed."

xxxxxxxxxx

_Christmas Eve…_

"Mother… would you please say something?"

Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley sat… faced off, more like… with Narcissa Malfoy, in the ornate and rather cavernous sitting room of Malfoy Manor. The house was beautiful but the atmosphere stifling. Narcissa's face was… unimpressed.

"Ginny, _dear_… I hear that you are a rather powerful witch for one so young. Do you have my son under a love spell?"

Draco blanched whiter than his usual shade of pale. "Not quite what I had in mind… Mother, are you serious?"

"Perfectly, Draco."

"Are you drunk?"

"_Draco_… " Ginny whispered to him, cautioning, mostly because she could tell Narcissa had in fact honored Draco's request to remain sober for the occasion.

"Did I not make clear how I feel about Ginny in my letter?"

"Yes, you did. That is why I have to ask. I hardly knew what I was reading! You must admit, sweetheart, you didn't sound like yourself."

"Perhaps it's because I was… what's the word… oh, yes… happy?"

Narcissa paused. It pained her the way her son seemed to be telling her he'd never been happy before. "…I want you to be happy, Draco. Don't think that I don't. But… you and the Weasley girl…"

"She's right here. Her name is Ginny," he said plainly.

"I know. I'm trying to express to you my first reactions. And the news of _her_ being your girlfriend was… unexpected, to say the very least. You might as well have said you were running off to join that awful rock band, the… Whatsit Sisters."

"The Weird Sisters," Ginny filled in, and then couldn't help it, and began to giggle, looking at Draco. "You know, I can picture it… you with the long hair, the guitar, the _tight pants_… Maybe you should try it."

The girl's suggestive tone riled Narcissa. "Young lady, who do you think you are, speaking that way in front of his mother?"

"You brought it up," Ginny responded, making Draco smile.

"She's got you there."

"Draco, I've heard enough. I tried, for your sake. Invited her into our home. You know very well that if your father were here… well, she wouldn't be."

"You're right. And neither would I." No, if his father weren't in Azkaban, Draco would still be at the Weasleys', being ignored, and glad for it. "But I wanted the two of you to meet because I love you both. I hoped that might be enough common ground for… something."

Ginny squeezed his hand in hers… which he hadn't let go of since they'd gotten there… and looked at Narcissa. She sympathized with the woman for a moment, watching her face try to process the shock at actually hearing her son admit aloud to loving someone… at all, let alone someone so unsuitable… and decided she deserved an honest answer to her question.

"No, Mrs. Malfoy, I do not have Draco under a love spell… at least not the kind you're thinking of. It was never my intention to fall in love with him, or to make him feel the same for me. It was _unexpected_, to use your word, and it is occasionally exasperating… but mutual, and also wonderful. I do love him, without ulterior motives, class hang-ups, or reservations. We hope you will be on our side, and the same for my family… but we don't need you to be."

Narcissa watched the cool blue-grey of her son's eyes warm as he looked at Ginny. Perhaps more importantly, she was able to see an equal affection in Ginny's gaze. The girl had influence over Draco, that was obvious, but from what she could gather, did not use it selfishly. She seemed to calm him, communicating mostly without words. Draco had always had a temper, always wanted things his way. The fact that he hadn't threatened never to speak to his mother again, or stormed out… because, "mummy's boy" or not, it was strategy he had favored in the past… spoke volumes as to this young woman's effect on him. She had that often foolish Gryffindor bravery, but one could only hope it was tempered with intelligence.

"She's amazing, isn't she?"

Examining her life soberly, for a change, Narcissa had to admit that she did not believe class distinctions were the most important thing in a match between witch and wizard, or that money and power necessarily equaled happiness. She acknowledged Draco's words with the slightest nod, and a cool, arched eyebrow she hoped was still intimidating.

"Perhaps… worth getting to know."

Then her son was up and kissing her cheek, and all cool pretense dissolved.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Mr. Granger, could I talk to you… for a minute?"

Having noticed that the women seemed to be deep into some kind of _girl talk_, Ron had taken the opportunity to knock on the study door, peeking his head in, and Hermione's dad waved him inside with a smile.

"Of course, Ron. But I told you to call me Howard."

"Beg pardon, sir, but I don't think I'd feel right calling you something so informal… with what I want to ask you about."

The young man's face appeared nervous of its own seriousness, so Mr. Granger took pity on him and sat him down. "All right. What's on your mind?"

"Well, sir…" Ron cleared his throat. "It's about… what you said to me in the car on the way here from the train station."

Mr. Granger thought for a moment but could not recall anything in particular he had said. "I'm afraid I'll need a bit more. Memory's going in my old age." He was only forty-five, but it wasn't entirely untrue. He still couldn't find his old reading glasses…

"I mean what you said about… me being forbidden to marry Hermione… ever."

Ron's generally deep voice broke into an unnatural high note on the word "marry," and he cleared his throat again. Mr. Granger took in the barely concealed worry before him. The poor boy had been stressing over that? He'd only said it to relax the lad after he'd put him into a panic by jokingly bringing up the "M word" in the first place. "Oh, that… Listen, Ron…"

"I'm really hoping you'll change your mind."

He blinked. _The boy wasn't asking…?_ "Ron, are you asking me permission to propose to my daughter?" They were so young. Admittedly, he and Melanie hadn't been _much_ older… they'd been at University together when they'd gotten engaged… but how had Ron gone from the marvelous slow pace he'd been at (_"took five years to hold my hand,"_ he could hear Hermione saying) to _this_? "Don't you think you should wait a few years? You've still got another year of school. Do you have a career lined up? What will you…?"

"I didn't mean now!" Ron shouted, terrified… popping up out of his chair and quickly sinking back down, his legs having given out. "I'm not even seventeen yet!"

"Oh!" Mr. Granger felt the relief through his whole body. "Then, what did you mean?"

Ron's breathing slowly returned to normal as he spoke. "I just meant… I know she's smarter than me, and probably just too good for me, and I know we fight a lot… but we always have, and it works for us… and I just can't imagine my life without her. If I did think about… getting married and having my own family one day… I'd want that with her. Not now, maybe not for years. But I can't stand the thought of it not being possible. I don't even know if she would say yes, but I know how much your opinion means to her, and…"

"Ron."

"Yes?"

Mr. Granger knew he had the boy's very heart in his hand at that moment, and even the jokester inside of him couldn't bring himself to risk bruising it again. "If… _someday_… you ask Hermione to be your wife, and she says yes, then Melanie and I will support our daughter's choice." He smiled warmly at Ron, who he did think was a fine young man. "She is always right, you know."

Ron smiled back, now able to put those thoughts away again, far into the future, and just concentrate on Christmas. "I know."

And, just outside the doorway, Hermione leaned against the wall, hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes. Quickly and quietly, she tiptoed the path back to her room. She had heard it all, and she loved Ron Weasley more than ever.

Enough to know not to tell him of her discovery.

At least until the honeymoon.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Five, four, three, two, one… Midnight! Time for presents!"

Harry laughed. "Merry Christmas, Pan."

"Oh, right. Merry Christmas, Harry… Now, presents!"

Presents at midnight, just as Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Day, had been Pansy's idea, and she was as excited as a little girl. But she looked decidedly grown up, in a long nightgown, a gorgeous shade of indigo. They sat on her bed, in their nightclothes, legs folded under them, and Harry was glad for the rather innocent distraction of gift exchange. Before he could ask if she wanted to give or receive first, her hands were extended and excited lips pursed together. He reached behind him and placed a wrapped box atop her palms, which she dug into with glee.

"You have to promise you won't get ahead of yourself… ahead of me… with this, Pan. But I thought it would make you smile."

Pulling off the top and reaching her hand inside to touch the fluffy Egyptian cotton, she was not disappointed, but confused. "Towels?"

"Really look at them."

She stretched one out across her lap… Not only was it a deep green color, but there at the bottom, in red script, were the letters "PPP."

Pansy's breath caught. _Pansy Parkinson Potter._ "Harry…" She knew it wasn't a proposal. If it were, she would be thwapping him with the towel and calling him a nutter, because they were only sixteen. So, what…?

"You're so funny about it, how you always say you like the sound of it. I know you're mostly joking… but I wanted to let you see how it looks."

"Monogrammed. In red and green," she mused. "Christmasy, and Gryffindor together with Slytherin. You're brilliant, babe." She grabbed his chin and kissed him warmly. "You really are as brave as they say."

"I'd have to be, with you, wouldn't I?"

"Yes. So be brave again and close your eyes." He did, and she whispered, "Okay, Parker, it's showtime. Let's give Harry his present."

A second later, Harry heard a whimsical music begin and opened his eyes to find… Harry had never seen one up close before, but he believed it was called a _carousel_… colorful and shining, decorated with painted wooden horses, right in the middle of Pansy's room.

"Pan, what… how did you…? Your room wasn't _this_ big a minute ago, was it?"

In fact, the walls had pushed back and space expanded to accommodate the carousel. Pansy took Harry's hand and walked him towards the grand ride.

"Parker did it. She's capable of all sorts of things, you know. A living home is a good way to get around the no magic away from school rule."

"But why?"

"You never had a childhood. Not until you were eleven, and even then you couldn't just be a kid, you had to be _Harry Potter_… fighting dark magic and saving us all, year after year. And it's not fair that your horrible, fat cousin got to do things like go to amusement parks and have fun, and you had to stay home in a cupboard. I wanted to give you a piece of… what you should have had. That's all."

"That's _all_?" She didn't realize how much that really was. He shook his head and her fingers brushed his cheek.

"Maybe I thought it would make you smile."

He couldn't remember when he'd smiled so much or so big. With a hand on her back, he helped her up onto the circular platform, following behind her as she chose the best horse for them.

And when the carousel started turning, their horse moving up and down, Pansy's arms wrapped around his waist… maybe it shouldn't have been impressive to a boy who had flown more times and ways than he could count… but it was. He loved it… and her.

They rode until they were dizzy, then they stumbled off and made a mountain of pillows on the floor, collapsing and eating the cotton candy Parker had produced for them.

Neither wanted him to return to that guest room, but holding her all night would require more self-control than Harry was sure he had… because, whether or not they were ready, he just wasn't comfortable having sex for the first time with someone watching… even if it was the house. So he stayed, on a makeshift bed on the floor, just a few feet from her.

"Goodnight, Pan. Merry Christmas."

"It finally is." Not lonely anymore. "Goodnight, Harry."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Mother liked you, Gin."

"No, she didn't."

"All right, maybe 'like' is too strong. But I think she respected you, and that might be even more impressive. It's a lot more than can be said for your mother's opinion of me."

"Well, I rather more than like you. I happen to love you. Did you forget?"

Merlin, this girl could actually make Draco Malfoy look _sheepish_, and then make him smile about it. "You, too, Sugar Shock."

"Now, come in out of the cold, would you? Don't freeze to death just to avoid my family."

"Why not? I think I pull off this shade of blue smashingly well."

"You are nearly as stubborn as I am, aren't you?" Ginny wrapped her arms around his shivering body… his coat much too fancy to do something as utilitarian as keep him warm… and started pulling him inside the house. "It's Christmas morning. Come on, Ketchup-Breath."

"Is it time for presents?" he asked, wincing. The two of them had exchanged their gifts already, and her pendant gleamed against her sweater. That had been fun, but this would not be. Even though Ginny had helped him to pick out a gift for her parents, he knew they would hate it anyway, because it came from him. All this _family togetherness_ crap was really turning him into a grinch.

"No, not yet. First, it's time for Christmas crackers!"

The two walked into the family room to find all the Weasleys gathered, and Fred and George pulling on opposite ends of a brightly-colored tube. After a loud _BANG_, George was holding the larger piece… but he was also on the other side of the room. Fred ran over and stole his brother's prizes, declaring loudly that they could make much more entertaining crackers than these for the shop, as George read aloud the motto…

"_The Ooh-Aah Bird is so called because it lays square eggs."_

Everyone had a good laugh at that… more so because it came with a bird, who lay a square egg… paused for the "ooh, ahh" reaction… and then flew away.

Even Draco laughed, but shut up quickly when he was handed a cracker by Mr. Weasley.

"You and Ginny, try. Don't worry, you don't have to brace yourself. It's a Muggle cracker I picked up. They're much gentler."

Draco blinked, forced the still not quite natural words "thank you" past his lips, and shared the cracker with Ginny, eliciting only a small bang and no physical trauma. Ginny got the bigger piece, but when she pulled out the motto, Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"That's for Draco."

He was confused, and a little frightened, but he took the slip of paper Ginny handed him and read it aloud.

"_My girlfriend is worth putting up with her family… even when they treat me shabbily at Christmas."_

There was quiet for a moment, until the girlfriend in question said, "That's a good one."

"What… does this… This is a _Muggle_ cracker?" Draco gaped.

"Slightly magically altered," Mr. Weasley replied with a mischievous wink.

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Draco, I was so prepared for you to be… maybe not completely evil… but a snob, certainly…"

"Oh, he is a snob," said Ginny.

"It's true. I am." There was really no sense in denying it.

"Then I suppose you've done an excellent job of toning it down while you've been here. You didn't complain about the _meager accommodations_, as I imagined you would. You didn't turn up your nose at my cooking. In fact, you quite literally made yourself sick to impress us, and we've given you no credit." Mrs. Weasley somehow managed to look both contrite and stern. "Now… we are far from accepting you happily as part of Ginny's life or this family, but… you're here, and I believe you treat our daughter well. So… Merry Christmas, Draco."

He hoped he said it back, but was so in shock, he was only barely aware of Ginny's lips brushing his cheek and whispering in his ear, "Maybe next year you'll even get a sweater with your initial on it."

That would _really _be a season of miracles, he thought later, as everyone readied to go meet Ron and Hermione, Potter _(oh joy)_ and Pansy in town for Christmas brunch. But he didn't need a sweater, or her family's acceptance… could even deal with undesirables... so long as he had the girl Weasel.

_  
The End_

A/N: "Ooh-Aah Bird" motto was swiped from the "Silly But It's Fun" episode of Good Neighbors, AKA The Good Life... cracks me up, lol.


End file.
